Here's a nice little tale of a recent roadtrip to our neighbors to the north.
OOOOoooohhhh Canada (or Exporting American chunks to Canadian soil.)
by J. Greenwood
Well it all started with a bunch of scatterbrained Seattle skate punks who needed a break from the Seattle-Bellevue monotony! The line-up was fluctuating like the Seahawks quarterback position and until the very last was still up in the air. The few who threw their hat in the ring were hearty indeed! Sleestak extraordinaire Bobcat was at the helm. He is despised by everybody so I knew the trip would at least be somewhat gravy. Then Seated next to the captain was first mate Ben " the Hesh" Butler . 2 great ones already, the line-up continues. ( The customs agents knew we’d be in the line-up , but that comes later…) Then we have the lean and clean Fisticuffs Fiscus. None were used on this trip as far as I know. So , including myself we have no plan of action yet and we’re still in Seattle @ 12 noon on a cloudy Sat. We finally had enough of this uncertainty and decided to leave the Birdman ( Parrot ) in the King county cage. So we’re heshing up I5 and we can’t wait until we get to the $1.00 a gallon gas, Disneyland money, and cheesy Canadian customs. No trip to Canada should be without a stop at the Largest Grocery Stores in Washington to try to pick up an American Sandwich, which has some flavor, and some brewski’s.
So with gas , food , beer, and a tiny Honda that burns a ton of oil and has expired tabs we head into Canada , easily clearing customs and we’re on our way to the promised land! Only 500 feet across the boarder it begins to drizzle. So we scrap the idea of heading to Whiterock first and travel up through the country ( this is the beginning of where I got lost) and don’t see much for quite awhile. Some Flea market Bobcat has pegged for finding cool HESH shit is no longer there. Over some big as fuck bridges and a million turns into a warehouse district then we end up at a Y.M.C.A. looking place called Club Aviva. It’s pooring rain so at least we made the right decision. Step out of the car into a virtual river of water as the rain has been heavy for the last half hour. I look into the window and see a bunch of younger girls doing gymnastics with Newman from Seinfeld getting a grasp of all the young flesh he can while teaching the girls how to do summersaults and balance beam routines. Whoever thought of putting little girls and gnarly skaterz in the same building needs their head examined.
So we scam our way in for supercheap rates and take a look around this high ceiling warehouse. First impression isn’t too bad. A few rippers are blasting this quarter pipe to wall ride set back ramp from a vert quarter pipe on the other side of the room. Too bad there is a crusty pyramid in the middle which almost makes me slam every time I ride over it back and forth across the street course. There is also a mini that is only 16 feet wide with 12 feet of one side going straight up to vert with no lip. In essence that ramp is as boring as they get. But after hitting up the car for a couple beers then bringing in some St. Ides punch the mini gets a fine session on the over vert wall. The place is noisy as all hell in the first place but while we were there they were putting on metal grind ledges on all the street course which was noisy and very dusty. The car was home! Bobcat rode with an old demons intensity for at least a minute. Ben Butler wally-ed the high box on the pyramid a few times, Fiscus sat most the time, and I watched everyone else rip the place up. Sabin was also in the neighborhood for the entire weekend so we hooked up with him at several locals. A few pictures of the local pro’s and rippers and a few more beers then we were outta there. ( This is where I really start to get lost) Headed for Vancouver in the back of the Honda. We go to and Ben & I get right into the bar to get some drink. There is a long line so we want to figure something else out but to no luck. We go back outside to see what’s taking so long and Bobcat has disappeared to get some canadian currency. Sahben & Fiscus are hanging at the car for Cat . OK then , back to the bar , through the line to a nice cold Canadian Beer. Bobcat gets a seat on the eating only side of the joint so we pound the beer and get some grub and beer on that side of the picket fence ( In the same place mind you!). After eating we consider heading to the Ivanhoe, the crews favorite Canadian watering hole, or the Nashville Pussy show which we all missed in Seattle a couple days before. Nashville Pussy wins out so we jet outta the food joint. At the end of the building We notice the music posters are all over the wall of the building. Next thing you see is a wall of posters a couple inches thick getting ripped to shreds in hopes of finding some old classics. I have a 5 ft. piece in my hand still attached to the wall and look over my shoulder to see that a growing crowd down the street has begun watching us. Time to go!
Photo's are my new M.G.D. style!
This fun box is reeaall low!
We head to the Starfish Lounge and get turned away cuz the show is sold out! On to the Ivanhoe! This place is not as I’d invisioned and it’s quite crowded and a little seedy! Perfect place for putting down some ale! This is where the fun starts! Well fun for everyone else that is. I’m hammered by the time we get there, duh , so another beer or 3 don’t help. So my body tells me that’s enough and gives me the old familiar hiccups. Lame! I can’t drink if I have the hiccups, can you? Then telling yarns about never getting rid of the hiccups, the waitress pops in and says she knows how to get rid of them. I take the challenge. She returns with a cup of water, makes me get down on my knees, plug each ear and nostril with both hands, and she tilts the cup into my mouth and makes me drink the water. BAM! I get up and they are gone! Holy Shit I’m saved! Give me some more beer! ( Ooops, I shoulda stopped there!) Well to make a long story short, Ben spilt a beer on some losers boots who thinks he should pay to get them shined. I spill beer on Ben, South Park gets thrown in the VCR, I’m swimming in a world of hurt, excrement flies from my belly out my mouth, and I wake up half clothed in a foreign house with some carpenter pounding on the wall at 8 a.m. laying carpet next door. The doorbell and phone constantly rang for good measure too. When I sit up to appease the situation things don’t look so bad. I have no shirt shoes or socks but everything seems clean. Then I look around the other side of the furniture and see last nights torture. The only explanation for the wide range of turf covered with some of my American chunks is that I woke up heaving and in the darkness couldn’t find the door. Well I gotta get my back up clothes out in the car and as soon as I
open the door I see the remains of the clothes I would never wear again. OK clean up mess and get dressed and ready to roll ( we’re pretty unmotivated so far until we actually see what time it is) 1 o’clock? Gotta go.
Back in the Honda I felt like a champ. Wendy’s for breakfast didn’t settle to well. The New West skatepark was a thing to behold! Except for deep puddles in every bowl. We skated anyways. Ben is still on his wally fix, Sahben shows up to do some BMX’n, the Cat throws up some footplants, I take on a new way to get a bath. ( By now I'm delirious, covered with water, dirt, blood and a couple puke nuggets from last night, I can only laugh!) Just as I’m gettin some of the park dialed and some of my clothes dry, everyone wants to leave. We head to a store around the corner to stock up on some vittles, drugs, chocolates for our ladies back home, and crack some more beer. Beer at that point sucked and I abstained. On to Surrey….( The city of Parks)
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